Literacy Narrative

Heather Fincher English 1103 Tuesday/Wednesday

The Monster in the Tree I came into my freshman year of high school knowing nothing about writing. And it was here, freshman year, that without even knowing it, I learned how to write efficiently. Put the pen to the paper and scribble away was always my motto. It never occurred to me that writing contained such emotion, such thought, or such care. This realization sure did hit me like a brick wall my second week into ninth grade year. Today, we are going to write a Narrative. I want you to write a story in the context that you are dreaming. Write in third-person describing your dream, and be sure to include lots of imagery! But wait, what is a narrative? Does third person mean there are supposed to be other people in my dream? Surely he is going to show us an example first..? All of these questions raced through my mind as the teacher wrote the directions on the board. I looked around to find three or four faces which displayed the confusion I felt. I cant begin my freshman year with a bad grade! But how am I supposed to succeed in something if I have no clue what Im doing? Write about a dream. Well now was my time to get creative. I stared at the ceiling for what seemed like years, until finally an idea popped into my head. A monster in a tree! Thats original, right? I based my idea off of the storyline of Alice in Wonderland. There was a small child wondering through the woods when she came across a tree, and in the middle of that tree was a huge hole that connected to another world. A monster popped put at her and BOOM! She was gone. La-di-da-da and the story continued. I wrapped up my narrative with the finishing touch and the child returned to her bed, never to travel in the woods alone again. I was proud of this work. A spectacular piece for my very first narrative.

Literacy Narrative

Heather Fincher English 1103 Tuesday/Wednesday

Two days later my teacher passed back out papers and I was dismayed by what I saw. 78 percent. Well, I suppose it could have been better. I told myself, No worries, well be writing another one next week. And we did. This time, we had to edit and re-write our original narrative. Simple! So I did. And yet again I received a C. This time self-consolation was impossible. I was convinced that I was a terrible writer. Writing is stupid! Who needs writing?! Why are you so picky over small details, you get the point! I was furious with my teacher and at the course, but mostly with myself. I should have known better. I guess that just goes to show that I am too stupid to write a simple narrative. My self-confidence was at its lowest point. I felt this way about writing until my junior year, when I took AP English forcedly-. Dissecting writing was a huge chunk of the class, and guess what was first on the list. We had to choose a narrative either by us or someone else and read, edit, comment on, and rewrite it. Well if Im going to criticize anyones work it might as well be my own! I think this was the best decision Ive ever made. Reading back through my old narrative I found many, many mistakes in my writing. Comma splices, run-on sentences, misspelling, and worst of all, I didnt even use third person. A mistake I failed to realize even the second time I wrote the story. And just like that it made sense to me. Writing is never perfect. There is ALWAYS room for improvement. I was striving to write that amazing first draft, even though I had never written a narrative before- I didnt even know what one was. For two years I had acquired a hate for writing. I considered it a waste of time, a pointless exercise. Until the day I read my own mistakes, and understood what they were. I understood that my anger was directed at the wrong thing. I was mad at myself for writing an embarrassingly horrible piece, when I was shown no guidance into how to write a sufficient paper. But for all of the tears and anger that I gained through my freshman year, I also gained insight into a brilliant

Literacy Narrative

Heather Fincher English 1103 Tuesday/Wednesday

work of art. Writing is not meant to move countries or make the Guiness Book of World Records. It isnt meant to be flawless, and it never comes out perfectly the first time. It is a way to express your deepest emotions, arguments, and thoughts. Writing is how we as individuals take journeys into separate worlds, or perfect our own. It is how dreams become legacies and how one speech can move an entire nation. And this is why I love to write. It has become my favorite subject. Looking back at my horrible experience freshman year, I realize that if it werent for that narrative, I never would have experienced the limit to my abilities, and I wouldnt have perfected those abilities. As much pain as writing caused me freshman year, I look back and appreciate the grades that I received and the mistakes I made. Writing is a process, and learning to write is like learning to walk. You have to fall down, then get back up and keep trying. For this reason I have fallen in love with writing and everything that it stands for, and I have all of that to thank to my ninth grade teacher.